


Shiawase ni Narou yo (All My Soul Remix)

by tsuristyle



Category: Konkatsu, Ninkyo Helper, SMAP, Shiawase ni narou yo
Genre: M/M, Yakuza, konkatsu - Freeform, tonkatsu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8920720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuristyle/pseuds/tsuristyle
Summary: Junpei scans the man's application. Hikoichi Tsubasa, alleged shop owner, interests including martial arts, mahjong, and elderly healthcare. This was going to be a bit of a challenge.(Drama fic, featuring Junpei (Shiawase ni Narou yo)/Hikoichi (Ninkyo Helper)/Kuniyuki (Konkatsu). Written September 2011.)





	

"I need to get married."  
  
Junpei smiles patiently at the man across from him. "That's generally why people come here."  
  
"No, I mean," The man-- Kuniyuki Amamiya, according to the application form resting on the desk in front of him-- fidgets nervously. "I _have_ to get married. Everything, my job, my family and friends, my whole _life_ depends on it."  
  
"I see," Junpei replies. He looks the man over. He's decently good-looking-- at least _that_ won't be a problem. "Did you have any specific requirements in mind?"  
  
Amamiya runs his hands through his hair miserably. "I don't know. I just want to find happiness."  
  
"We all do," Junpei replies agreeably. "But is there anything else that might help narrow it down?"  
  
Amamiya appears to think for a moment. "They have to like tonkatsu," he finally says, utterly serious.  
  
Junpei stares at him. "Tonkatsu?"  
  
Amamiya nods, and smiles nervously.  
  
~  
  
"So, you're here to find a marriage partner?" Junpei smiles politely at the man across from him. Everything about him-- the sharply-cut suit, the glittering watch on his wrist, the I-don't-give-a-fuck look he's giving him-- _reeks_ of yakuza.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I see." Junpei scans the man's application. Hikoichi Tsubasa, alleged shop owner, interests including martial arts, mahjong, and elderly healthcare. This was going to be a bit of a challenge. "Do you have any specific requirements you're looking for?"  
  
Hikoichi leans on one arm. "Not really." He pulls a lighter out of his pocket, flicking it open with a _clink_.  
  
"No smoking," Junpei says automatically, and nearly bites his tongue when the man glances up sharply. Looks are definitely, _definitely_ not going to be a problem.  
  
Hikoichi shuts the lighter and pockets it. "Wasn't going to."  
  
"Tell me," Junpei says, a little weakly. "Is there any particular reason you want to get married?"  
  
"Beats me." Hikoichi shrugs noncommittally. "I'm supposed to find happiness, I guess."  
  
Junpei pauses, the words ringing a faint bell in his head. "You don't happen to like tonkatsu by any chance, do you?"  
  
Hikoichi lifts an eyebrow. "Sure. Why?"  
  
~  
  
Kuni stands back and examines his work. A table at the back of the restaurant, clean tablecloth, lit candle, single rose. And two plates of his father's tonkatsu, freshly fried on a bed of sliced cabbage. If he's going to marry, whoever it is is going to have to resign herself to eating a lot of tonkatsu, so he figures it's best to start now.  
  
He checks his watch. Five minutes past. What kind of person will she be? Tsubasa, the marriage planner had said her name was. It's a nice name for a girl; a bit androgynous, but a pleasant name.  
  
10 minutes past. He hopes nothing bad has happened; the neighborhood is usually pretty quiet, but there have been some sketchy figures around lately.  
  
The planner had also said she was very practical and had experience with business management. That sounded good, maybe she could help run the restaurant when it came time to--  
  
There's a knock on the door. Kuni hurries over.  
  
"Sorry about that," he says, sliding the door open. "I just got everything set up, I hope you don't mind--"  
  
It's a man. A sharply-dressed, dangerous-looking man grinding out a cigarette on the sidewalk.  
  
"Ah." The man straightens, and Kuni notices that he's carrying a bouquet of flowers loosely in one hand. "Is Amamiya here?"  
  
Kuni gulps. Somehow he's pretty sure the man isn't talking about his aunt. "Um, I'm-- I'm Amamiya. Uh-- and you are?"  
  
The man blinks at him. "Hikoichi. Hikoichi Tsubasa."  
  
"Oh," Kuni says, staring at his 'date.' "Um. I think there's been a mistake."  
  
"No shit," Hikoichi replies, and tosses the bouquet at him.  
  
~  
  
"I think there's been a mistake," Amamiya says hesitantly.  
  
Next to him, Hikoichi picks up a pen from Junpei's desk and twirls it around. "You _think_?"  
  
Amamiya takes a breath. "There's _definitely_ been a mistake," he tries again.  
  
"Has there?" Junpei tilts his head politely. "In what way?"  
  
"We met like you arranged, but, well, we were both expecting, you know--"  
  
"Someone _female_." Hikoichi finishes, flashing an icy look at Junpei.  
  
"I see." Junpei holds his ground, ignoring the way his pulse momentarily skips a beat. "And how did the first meeting go?"  
  
Amamiya blinks. "Huh?"  
  
"The first meeting," Junpei repeats. "How did it go?"  
  
"Oh. Well." Amamiya glances sideways. "Actually, he ended up staying."  
  
Hikoichi shrugs, twirling the pen between his fingers. "It was pretty good tonkatsu."  
  
~  
  
Junpei is hurrying to catch the train when a figure steps out from a closed storefront, arms folded. He pulls up short, clutching the strap of his bag; it's Hikoichi.  
  
"What're you playing at?"  
  
Junpei reminds himself that the man is at least half a head shorter than him. Somehow, it's not very reassuring. "Can I help you with something?"  
  
Hikoichi regards him coolly. "This joke of a marriage match. It wasn't an accident, was it."  
  
"As we discussed, I made different arrangements for both of you," Junpei says quickly, bowing. "I deeply apologize for the trouble it caused."  
  
"Oh, shut up." Hikoichi pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and pinches one between his lips. Junpei fights to keep from staring at it. "I don't care what you do to me, but that other guy's desperate. It was on purpose, wasn't it?"  
  
He bites the bullet. Hopefully it won't be a literal one. "Yes."  
  
There's a _clink_ as Hikoichi flicks open his lighter. "Why?"  
  
"You reminded me of each other," Junpei says, mesmerized by the curl of smoke rising from the man's cigarette. "And it's always worth meeting someone, even just once. So I went with instinct. I apologize."  
  
Hikoichi stares at him for a long moment, smoke curling up between them, and then looks away. "Instinct, huh?" He flicks ash onto the pavement. "Do you always follow your instincts like that?"  
  
Junpei breathes out, his heart resuming beating. "Of course not," he says with a professional smile. "I'd be fired if I did."  
  
~  
  
Kuni watches the bubbling fryer intently, counting in his head. His father has this down to an art, honed over years and years of practice to achieve the perfect taste, texture, and shape; Kuni is lucky if he can turn out something that isn't burnt. It's going to take a hell of a lot of practice, which is why he's been ordered to run the last hour before closing every night.  
  
He lifts the skewer slightly and almost burns his fingertips. Still too pale.  
  
Behind him, Hikoichi is sitting at the counter, drinking cheap sake. He's been showing up every few nights, silently going through a couple rounds of sake and several plates of leftover tonkatsu. Kuni isn't sure why, but he certainly seems to enjoy the tonkatsu.  
  
Unfamiliar voices pass by the entrance; Kuni listens, but he can't place them, and they fade into the bubbling of the fryer. He squints at the skewer again. Hard to say.  
  
There's a motion next to him and he nearly jumps out of his skin to see Hikoichi standing there, watching the fryer curiously. "So how do you make these?"  
  
"What? Oh. The tonkatsu?" Kuni smiles weakly. "I'm kind of figuring that out myself, actually." He taps the end of the skewer. "I know all the steps, but there's always something I get wrong. Usually I end up burning it half the time."  
  
He lifts the skewer up. It's burnt. "Like that," he sighs, sliding it off onto the draining rack.  
  
Hikoichi looks down at the dark brown cutlet. "Still looks edible to me."  
  
Kuni shakes his head. "No good." He washes his hands off and reaches for the next cut of pork. "I don't know how my father does it, he turns them out perfect every time. He doesn't even have to think about it, he just _knows_. Like instinct, or something."  
  
Hikoichi glances up at him. "Instinct?"  
  
Kuni shrugs. "Or something. You wanted to see how they're made?"  
  
~  
  
Hikoichi is in for the fourth time, looking increasingly bored with the whole process. Junpei is pretty sure it was a mistake to admit the man in the first place, but Hikoichi isn't exactly the type you can say _no_ to, even in polite customer-speak. He's not sure he wants to at this point, anyway.  
  
At least he's managed to drag something more specific out of the man than 'someone interesting.' "I'm afraid most of our female applicants tend to be rather... _feminine_ , given the focus of our company, but I assure you that if someone closer to your interests should apply, I will do my best to ensure a meeting."  
  
"Someone who can knock back a few beers without passing out," Hikoichi elaborates, leaning back in his chair.  
  
"Of course," Junpei replies agreeably.  
  
"None of this how-much-do-you-make-a-year bullshit. I don't care about that kind of crap."  
  
"Indeed." Junpei looks down at his notes. In all the applicants he's handled, he can't say he's come across anyone who fits Hikoichi's specifications. Not any _woman_ , at any rate. The man with the reddish hair rises up in the back of his mind.  
  
"We done?" Hikoichi slouches down in the chair, and Junpei is suddenly horribly distracted by the way his slacks pull tight across the front, leaving not a whole lot-- or maybe _far too much_ \-- to the imagination. He drags his gaze away; Hikoichi is watching him.  
  
"Sex. I mean! _Yes_ ," Junpei corrects hastily. "I'll, uh, be in contact when we find the next lubricant. Er, applicant. Yes." He shuffles his papers together and stands up quickly, bowing. "Thankyouverymuchhaveaniceday."  
  
He's not sure which will stay with him longer, the bulge of Hikoichi's pants, or the lazy smirk that the man gives him as he turns to go.  
  
~  
  
Junpei smiles politely and bows as his customer takes her leave, trailing giddy dreams of the perfect meeting with every step. This is why he loves his job.  
  
It's done nothing to help him stop thinking about sharp eyes glaring at him through curls of smoke every night, though.  
  
The secretary whispers something to him and he notices a short man with reddish hair sitting on one of the waiting couches, still looking slightly lost. It's Amamiya.  
  
"I'm sorry, coming in without an appointment like this--"  
  
"Not at all." Junpei sits down across from him, motioning for the secretary to bring tea. "How did your meeting go? She seemed like a very nice lady."  
  
"Ah, yes, she was. But, well..." Amamiya fidgets with the briefcase in his lap.  
  
The secretary arrives with the tea. Junpei pushes Amamiya's towards him politely. "Well?"  
  
"She wanted to get married right away," Amamiya sighs. He taps the edge of his briefcase, watching his own fingers. "Does that happen a lot? People getting married after just a few meetings?"  
  
"Frequently," Junpei admits. "It's part of the business."  
  
Amamiya reaches for the tea and takes a sip. "I don't think I can," he says, finally.  
  
Ah. It's a familiar pattern. Junpei smiles sympathetically. "That's perfectly reasonable."  
  
Amamiya looks down into the cup with a wry smile. "Hikoichi said something like that, too."  
  
Junpei takes a moment to sip his own tea and set it back down. Hikoichi and Amamiya are still seeing each other? He _did_ set them up in the first place, but that was before-- "So," he says calmly, "do you still wish to continue with the matchmaking?"  
  
"Well, yes," Amamiya replies, looking resigned. "I have to. Everything depends on it."  
  
Junpei frowns, as politely as he can. This is why he _doesn't_ like his job, sometimes. "Including your own happiness?"  
  
~  
  
Kuni watches his third victim of the evening bubble in the fryer, humming tunelessly. Next to him, Hikoichi leans against the counter, still nursing his first glass. Kuni still isn't sure why he keeps coming in, but so far he hasn't shown any inclination to tear the place apart or demand money from him, and it's nice to have the company, quiet as it is. That, and he really does seem to like tonkatsu.  
  
"I stopped marriage hunting," Kuni says suddenly.  
  
Hikoichi looks over. "Yeah?"  
  
"I told everyone the truth. That I wasn't getting married." Kuni frowns thoughtfully. "They were disappointed."  
  
Hikoichi takes another sip of sake and doesn't say anything.  
  
"It's kind of a relief, though," Kuni continues. "You can't really hurry with something like that."  
  
Ice clinks against glass as Hikoichi finishes off the dregs. "What about your job?"  
  
"I'll find something," Kuni replies, shrugging. "If not, I guess I'll take over here eventually." It doesn't sound _too_ bad, thinking about it.  
  
Another space of silence passes before he remembers it's how he met the man in the first place. "What about you? Found someone yet?"  
  
Hikoichi wrinkles his nose. "They're all interested in shopping and kids. Not a single interesting one among 'em."  
  
Kuni hums in agreement, suddenly curious what exactly Hikoichi's idea of _an interesting woman_ is. "Maybe you don't need a matchmaker, either." He lifts the skewer from the fryer.  
  
It's a crisp golden brown.  
  
He slides it off onto the draining rack. They stare down at it.  
  
"It's _perfect_ ," Kuni breathes. The shape, the texture, the exact shade of crispy panko fried _just so_. He's never appreciated the art of a perfectly cooked tonkatsu so much in his life. It's _beautiful_.  
  
He comes to his senses. Beauty is only crust-deep, after all. It has to be tasted to be a true work of art.  
  
"I guess you get to be my first customer," he says, smiling at Hikoichi. "Have a seat."  
  
Hikoichi nods with something resembling a smile and heads back around the counter. Kuni pulls down a slightly more expensive sake and slices the cutlet with great reverence, placing it gently on a plate.  
  
"Sorry there's no cabbage--"  
  
The door slams open. "What's _this_ little shithole?" An unsavory-looking man steps in, followed by a tall, burly fellow carrying a bat. The shorter one puffs on a cigarette and blows smoke into the air. " _Smells_ like one. You the owner?"  
  
Kuni freezes. His father is upstairs, asleep. "Yes."  
  
"Good." The man paces dangerously along the length of the counter. "This neighborhood now belongs to the Asakura clan." The burly man trails behind him, kicking over a stool. Kuni winces at the sound of breaking wood. "And this hole-in-the-wall along with it. You will now be paying a weekly _protection_ fee for our gracious services."  
  
Kuni stares in horror as the men draw closer. "This-- this restaurant has belonged to my family for--"  
  
"Do I fucking care?" The shorter man blows smoke into his face. "It belongs to us now. All of it!" He sweeps everything off the sideboard and sends it crashing to the floor. Utensils, sake, the plate of tonkatsu--  
  
There is a moment of stunned silence. Followed by the sound of Hikoichi cracking his knuckles.  
  
~  
  
" _Jesus Christ_."  
  
Hikoichi staggers back in through the door. "They're gone."  
  
Kuni sways slightly. " _Jesus Christ_."  
  
Hikoichi pushes his way through the overturned chairs and tables. "You're injured."  
  
" _I'm_ injured?" Kuni stares at the cuts and bruises on the man's face. "You-- you broke his _nose_ with your _forehead_ \--"  
  
"Felt good, too." Hikoichi takes Kuni's hand and inspects it. There are several cuts on his palm from when the shorter of the two had shoved him out of the way, sending him tumbling to the glass-littered floor.  
  
"And the bigger one--" Kuni glances over, dazed. The splintered remains of the bat sit in the middle of the glittering mess like a crown. " _Jesus Christ_." He shakes his head, trying to clear it. "They could've killed you! They still might! What on earth made you decide to fight them?"  
  
"Instinct, I guess," Hikoichi replies. "Got any bandages?"  
  
They sit at the table farthest from the mess. Kuni watches as Hikoichi checks his hand for glass splinters and carefully bandages it. It's strangely gentle, almost surreal compared to the fury with which the man had moved before.  
  
"Can I ask something?" He flexes one of his fingers experimentally and winces in pain. "You're in the yakuza, aren't you? Why do you want to get married?"  
  
Hikoichi finishes wrapping the bandage around his hand. "I was ordered to."  
  
"Ordered?" Kuni reaches for the rubbing alcohol, unscrewing it with his good hand.  
  
"Used to be yakuza. The head ordered me out. Told me to 'Get my ass together and start a normal life somewhere.'" Hikoichi hisses as Kuni swabs the cuts on his hands. "I figured getting married would force the issue."  
  
"You figured--" Kuni breaks off, shaking his head. "You're insane, aren't you."  
  
Hikoichi smirks lopsidedly, watching Kuni's ministrations. "Probably."  
  
They're silent for a long moment as Kuni finishes cleaning Hikoichi's hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a candle tucked against the wall, behind the soy sauce and seasonings-- it's the one he'd set out, weeks ago, for that ill-fated first 'date.' That marriage planner had gone on and on about the importance of first meetings...  
  
"You know," Kuni says, clearing his throat, "I think we could use another part-timer around." He reaches up to clean a cut on Hikoichi's cheek, a little nervously. "If they don't mind working evenings."  
  
Their eyes catch for a second, and then Hikoichi glances away, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Do they get free tonkatsu?"  
  
Kuni fights back a grin. Maybe the marriage planner had been right after all. "As much as they like."  
  
~  
  
"I see," Junpei says when Hikoichi finishes talking. "That's certainly a unique reason to apply for marriage."  
  
Hikoichi leans back in the chair, flicking his lighter open and shut with a _clink_. "So what's your instinct got to say about that?"  
  
Junpei shuffles the papers on his desk and sends a pen rolling to the floor. He bends to pick it up, hitting his hand on the underside of the desk on the way back up. His instinct? "Well," he says, trying to regain his composure, and picks Hikoichi's application up, reading it over for the hundredth time. His instinct is telling him a lot of things, but professionally...  
  
He sighs inwardly. It's time to face it, it's what he should have done from the start. "In that case, I'm afraid I will have to reject your application." He slides the paper across the desk and stands, bowing. "Thank you for your service." It's kind of a relief, actually, though he's certainly disappointed that Hikoichi won't be glaring at him from across the desk once a week anymore. Oh well, it's not like he was expecting to find his own happiness or anything--  
  
Hikoichi takes the application and tosses it in the trash without a second glance. He slouches back down in the chair, so that his slacks pull _just so_ , and regards Junpei coolly. "Anything else your instinct's telling you?"  
  
Junpei looks down involuntarily and then back up at Hikoichi's amused sharp-eyed gaze, and it dawns on him that the man isn't a customer anymore. Can he-- should he-- maybe--  
  
What the hell, you can't find happiness if you don't go chasing after it, right?  
  
He takes a deep breath and smiles, not a professional one, just a normal, everyday Junpei one. "Want to go for a drink?"


End file.
